At least, that's what I keep telling myself.
Yes, last week was stressful. Yes, it's cold and wet outside. But things got done, mum is doing fine and I've managed to get out for a bit today and am on track with marking. I've got cheese on toast (with Lea and Perrins) for lunch, a giant cookie for afterwards and a glass of Merlot. Listening to music, got The Moonstone to read (and I'd forgotten just how good it is). Life is good, nothing to worry about.
So why do I still feel like curling up into a ball and crying?
I hate this illness. I don't know what else I can do but keep on doing all the right things and hope it works.